


Neighbourly

by CheapLemonIceLolly



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Pre-Relationship, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheapLemonIceLolly/pseuds/CheapLemonIceLolly
Summary: "Okay, yes, my cat likes stealing people's underwear from the laundry room and bringing it out into the courtyard to snuggle with it.  It's weird.  But I've got it under control."





	Neighbourly

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I haven't written anything in six months! Just flexing my short ficlet writing muscles to see if they still work. I'm not dead, just in a creative slump. This is based on a prompt from a list of [awkward first meeting AUs.](http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/101021230029/awkward-first-meetings-aus)

"Not to be nosy," says the guy in the doorway, "but what are you doing?"

Naz looks up from a fruitless tug of war with his cat and into the face of total humiliation. That is, into the face of his hot neighbour from the floor above his, standing in the entrance to the courtyard with the security lights wreathing him in gold like some kind of halo, and watching Naz with a look of polite puzzlement.

"Uhh," Naz says, stalling for time. He tries to angle his body so he can hide what's in his hand - and clutched between his cat's front claws - behind his back, but he's not sure it's working. "Just uh...nothing much?"

"You're making a lot of noise for someone who's doing nothing much," the hot neighbour says. He's got this low, kind of monotone voice and very neat hair, and he's wearing a button down under a sweater on a Friday night, so Naz is pretty sure he's not going to see the funny side of Jazzy's weird habits. "Is that a cat you've got there?"

"No," Naz lies, trying to tug the purloined garment out of Jazzy's grip one last time. She hisses and rabbit kicks him in the arm, and hot neighbour guy frowns. "Okay, yes," Naz admits, "it's my cat. But there's nothing to worry about, everything's fine."

"Did she get out?" says the hot neighbour, moving out into the courtyard. He's tall and broad chested and, look, Naz would probably appreciate this kind of solicitousness from a handsome stranger under any other circumstances but right now it's really not ideal. "I can help you catch her if you--"

"No, it's fine!" yelps Naz. "No need, all under control here, thanks though!"

But it's too late. Hot neighbour's only metre or so away from him now and he's bending down and squinting into the shadows where Jazzy's jealously guarding her prize. Any moment now he's going to...ah there we go. His eyebrows go up dramatically as he recognises what Naz and Jazzy are fighting over.

"Is that...underwear?"

Naz squeezes his eyes shut. "Okay, yes," he sighs. "My cat likes stealing people's underwear from the laundry room and bringing it out into the courtyard to snuggle with it. It's weird. But I've got it under control so there's no need to--"

"I think that's my underwear."

Naz's face feels bright red. "Ah, no, I'm sure it's not."

"No, I really think it is."

Naz looks down at the twisted grey marle boxer briefs in his fist and bares his teeth at Jazzy, but she just glares at him and sinks her claws deeper into the fabric. He casts around for something, anything, to get him out of this mess and then notices something stitched into the waistband.

"No, no," he tells hot neighbour, relieved. "It can't be yours, it's got one of those dorky name labels sewn into it. Must be a kid who goes to holiday camps or something." Kind of a large kid by the size of the underwear, but Naz doesn't judge.

"What's the name?" hot neighbour asks interestedly, as if that's a perfectly normal thing to ask about a pair of someone else's underpants that a stranger is wrestling a cat for. Naz tries to think of a reason not to tell him and can't, so he does.

"It's uh...John something. John Ta-- it's kinda hard to read at this angle."

"Tavares," hot neighbour says blandly. "Yeah, that's me."

Naz is so surprised he lets go.

He straightens up and stares at his hot neighbour, who's got to be at least Naz's age, artfully rough stubble and all. He looks completely unembarrassed, but not like he's making a joke.

"Your mom still sews name labels into your underwear?" Naz asks, an incredulous smile tugging at his mouth. Hot neighbour's - John's - eyebrows contract slightly.

"No, I do it myself," he says. When Naz just grins at him in bewildered disbelief, he adds, "We have a shared laundry room. I do it with all my clothes. It's so that people know who to return them to if they get stuck in the dryer or something."

"Oh sure," Naz laughs. "I mean, of course."

"Or if someone's creepy cat steals them, naturally," John says, raising an eyebrow.

Now, Naz doesn't take kindly to people who don't like cats. Jazzy may be an underpants stealing menace, but she's his underpants stealing menace, and frankly anyone who thinks cats are creepy is probably not Naz's kind of person anyway. He's about to say as much when he realises John's smiling at him.

"Uh, right," Naz says, feeling a little flustered all of a sudden. "Sorry about that. I'll just…" he scoops Jazzy up in his arms and clutches her against his chest like a furry shield, or maybe a security blanket. She starts up a steady purr. "Stop that," he mutters. "You're in trouble, you destructive little shit."

John chuckles. Like, he doesn't laugh out loud like a regular person, he honest to god chuckles, this soft, warm little noise that vibrates right down the length of Naz's spine.

"She really did a number on those things, huh?"

"Uh yeah, sorry man," Naz says. The underpants have at least one noticeable hole in them from the tug of war between him and Jazzy earlier. "I think they're kind of a write off, honestly." John just shrugs.

"It's fine," he says in his mild, low voice. "It's not my only pair of underpants or anything."

They both say nothing for a moment, contemplating the implications of Naz's cat stealing John's only pair of underpants. John coughs and blushes slightly.

This might just be the weirdest night of Naz's life.

"Right," he says slowly. "Well...I better...get this one inside, so…sorry again."

"Not at all," says John politely, stepping out of Naz's path back into the building. Naz gets a better grip on Jazzy, but she's not going anywhere now she's got no competition over her new toy. Naz doesn't know why, but this interaction feels so unfinished, somehow. He gets as far as the door, and then turns around.

"Seriously, all your clothes? Even the socks?"

"Well, no, not the socks," John says. "That would be a little odd."

A laugh splutters out of Naz's mouth before he can stop himself. John just smiles bemusedly back at him, and Naz has no idea if that was just a really deadpan joke or if he's honestly just...like that. Honestly, either way…

"Do you drink coffee, John Tavares?" he asks.

"Not after three pm," says John.

"Sure, sure," Naz says slowly. Because...it was obvious the actual beverage wasn't the point of that question, right? Is he being subtly rejected right now, or is John just oblivious in the extreme?

Only one way to find out.

"You want to come up and I'll make you a... warm milk or something?" he tries. "Just to say sorry for the whole underpants thing."

"Oh," John says, looking surprised. Naz is on tenterhooks for a moment longer, but then he smiles, small but genuine. "Okay, yeah. Warm milk sounds nice."

Naz is a little surprised to find he agrees.


End file.
